


Catharsis

by Sannek



Series: Fix you [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person, Pre-Slash, Reunions, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:04:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sannek/pseuds/Sannek
Summary: His solid body and living warmth break everything I’ve left inside me. Everything I’ve ever pushed down, every unresolved grief I carry inside me, it all comes out.---Set after "The Voyage Vome" when Spock and Kirk have their undisturbed, private reunion.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> A world without Spock is an empty place. I had to write a second part to "Fix You" to give him back to Jim.
> 
> \---
> 
> “Sometimes tears carry the same weight as words.”  
> ― Ovid

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**

 

I can’t stop smiling.

Even though we came close to loosing Earth. But we didn’t.

We did it. Again.

I’m back in my San Francisco apartment. Tomorrow will be our hearing.

But I couldn’t care less.

I’ve got Spock back. I really have him back. The Spock I’ve known for so long with all his logic and irritating and lovable quirks.

I can’t stop smiling because of him. For him.

Even though he’s still somewhat Vulcan mad at me because I pushed him into the water.

But I don’t care about that either.

He’ll forgive me eventually even if I won’t say I’m sorry. Because I’m not.

It was beautiful to feel him struggle against me as I tried to push him into the waves. He felt all solid and strong and warm and alive.

My door buzzes.

I turn around to stare at it before I’m back in the here and now.

“Come!” I say.

The door slides open to reveal Spock.

He’s changed out of his Vulcan robes and into a Starfleet uniform.

He’s looking handsome and severe.

I can’t stop myself from staring at him.

I realize, this is the first time we meet in private outside our last unplanned mission and with the both of us in our right mind.

“Am I disturbing you, Admiral?” He asks. His rich, soft baritone is rocking me to my core.

“Jim, it’s Jim.” I say on autopilot. Then, “No, by all means, no! Come in please. Come!” My voice sounds higher than normal and I’m spared an undignified squeak by inches only.

Damn.

Spock gives me a look as if to decipher what’s just going on with me.

I move toward my sitting room. “Here, have a seat.” I say, “may I offer you something to drink?”

“Tea would be most welcome,” he says and the familiarity of it squeezes my heart.

I start to realize that the adrenaline and excitement of the last mission have denied me to really understand that I have Spock back.

For a time there I’d thought I’d lost him even though I had him back.

When he refused to call me Jim because of its inappropriateness, when he couldn’t remember anything besides knowing he’d served under my command on the Enterprise – I’d feared the worst.

Spock moves over the threshold and into my apartment. His movements are graceful and precise as always.

Suddenly my affection, my… love, for him flares bright and aching and all encompassing in my chest. It’s difficult to breathe around it and I’ve got a hard time not to choke on my tongue as I swallow.

I make myself turn to fix his tea.

Putting it on the low table, I motion him towards my living room suite.

“Please, sit.” I croak.

Spock gives me that look again and my breath stutters around the next love-spasm in my chest.

God, I’m in trouble.

Spock seats himself.

He seats himself in exactly the same spot as Sarek sat when he came to accuse me of denying Spock eternal life.

I remember how raw I felt when my door opened to reveal the wrong Vulcan; the sick feeling of possibly having betrayed Spock.

I remember the numbness when Sarek couldn’t find any trace of his son in my mind.

He made me relive those agonizing last moments in engineering. If I hadn’t felt how hard this was for him, too, I would have probably managed to hate him.

I remember resenting Bones, for he was allowed to carry Spock’s _katra_ and I was not.

I remember feeling ashamed and disgusted, hopeful and desperate.

I remember feeling hopeful, anxious and yearning as we found Spock’s living body. And then a painful mixture of euphoria and sheer desperation as Spock was Spock again but couldn’t remember anything other than my name.

It feels like ages ago. Eons.

My heart, though, knows how recent it is.

I can’t keep it together anymore.

I sink heavily into one of the other couches. And taking my head into my hands it’s all I can do to shield my misery from the world.

It’s as though the dams have finally broken. All those tears I couldn’t cry when I lost him, they’re here now. Spock brought my heart back and now it’s aching and throbbing and tearing me apart.

It’s embarrassing as hell.

Spock the tightly controlled Vulcan besides me and I’m a blubbing mess.

I’m sobbing in earnest now as the tears spill down my face. I’ve never experienced anything like that in my whole life.

It’s wracking my body and I’m busy hiding my face and sucking air into my lungs.

I didn’t know the muscles on my torso were still that strong. With every sob I squeeze myself painfully.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on my forearm.

“Jim.” It’s said gently in that rich baritone. Soft and gentle and concerned. “Jim, please. I am here.”

Does he even know what he does to me?

Without thinking I launch myself at Spock. I grab at his uniform, his arms, his hair. I fist my hands wherever I find purchase.

He stiffens under my assault but doesn’t draw back which brings on the next fit of uncontrollable sobbing.

My nose is running and I’m probably just ruining Spock’s uniform with my snot.

I’m disgusted with myself and exhilarated at the same time.

And I’m breaking. I’m falling apart.

I’ve got two fists full of shiny black hair captured in my hands and I don’t think I can ever let go again.

Then Spock’s arms come around me. The touch is timid and feather light. And a little awkward. As though Spock is afraid to break me.

I manage to pry one of my hands from Spock’s hair to put it on his back and press him into me with as much force as I can muster. I turn my face into his neck and breathe him in.

And maybe I pull his hair a little too hard as there’s a tiny gasp from him.

“Sp-Spock.” I hiccup into his skin in between sobs.

My lips find his neck and I can’t stop myself from mouthing at it.

More hiccups, sniffles and sobs.

Then Spock’s hold on me tightens and he turns into me.

I’m undone again.

His solid body and living warmth break everything I’ve left inside me. Everything I’ve ever pushed down, every unresolved grief I carry inside me, it all comes out.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

I don’t think, I can survive this.

I’m crying like a baby now.

Spock holds me.

I’m locked in a vise like embrace of solid Vulcan arms.

Spock starts to tremble.

“I m-missed you, god, I-I m-missed y-you so m-much.” I press into his skin.

Spock says nothing but his head turns infinitesimally more into me.

I think about all the years we wasted until this our first embrace.

I think about all those times where we’d been standing so close and I’d been just short of telling Spock how much I love him.

I think about how every time I didn’t because of my own pride and the treacherous thought that there was still so much time.

Well now I’m not exactly young anymore. Spock still is because he’s Vulcan but he’s already died once. And I’m overly conscious of the fact that eventually I’ll reach the end of my much shorter human life span.

I’ve wasted so much time!

I should have told him that very first meld.

Should’ve told him when I first looked into those gentle, soft, brown eyes, when I saw my soul reflected back at me.

In my arms, Spock does a hiccup-gasp-like thing, too.

His trembling gets worse.

Maybe he’s thinking along the same lines.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

My crying has finally tuned down into hiccups and gasping breaths.

I’m still embarrassed that Spock had to witness my break down – even though I’m not exactly sorry to have ended in his arms.

I squeeze Spock once and then push back a little bit so I can look at him.

I must be looking a mess. Eyes swollen and shiny and red. I inwardly cringe at the image.

Spock looks decidedly unhappy, his lips pressed firmly together. He looks at me with those soft, gentle eyes. There’s so much pain in them.

It breaks my heart.

I thought there wasn’t anything left that could be broken.

“I apologize for causing you pain,” he says. There's a faint tremor in his voice.

“Don’t.” I say back.

Still a little shaky I lock my hands around Spock’s upper arms, caressing his biceps with my thumbs.

We stare at each other, never even once breaking our eye contact – that’s how I see the minuscule shift in Spock’s eyes before a lone tear escapes his left eye.

Before I can stop myself, my thumb is in Spock’s face to brush it away.

Spock doesn’t draw back.

His face does several things at once and he swallows thickly. I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.

He looks lost. As broken and vulnerable as I feel.

My hand’s back in his face, gently cupping his cheek.

It’s soft like he probably shaved only recently.

I’m hyper-aware of my own dusty afternoon stubbles as I start caressing Spock’s smooth skin.

He leans into the touch.

“God I love you.” I whisper as I let my head rest against Spock’s.

Spock’s eyes close at that and some of the agony leaves his handsome, severe features.

Then his eyes open and he’s staring at me again.

“As I do thee, t’hy’la.” He rasps in that rich, velvety voice.

I let myself sink back into his arms, into a much gentler embrace this time.

And Spock’s arms come willingly around me to hold me like no-one’s ever held me before and never will.

We’ll be okay.

 

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**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own any of Star Trek or the characters in it. I don't gain any profit by posting my stories.


End file.
